


a reason to deceive

by rosybelle



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Cheating, F/M, The Reynolds Pamphlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:54:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosybelle/pseuds/rosybelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was in that moment of hysterics that Eliza decided that she would not be at the mercy of a man who could make her feel so helplessly distraught. </p><p>A very short story about the inner-workings of Eliza's mind during "Burn".</p>
            </blockquote>





	a reason to deceive

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually my first posting on this website wow
> 
> Any copyrighted material belongs to it's rightful owners

" _... my real crime is an amorous connection with his wife, for a considerable time with his privity and connivance..._ "

        The pamphlet's words danced around Eliza's mind, made their way into memories of her wedding, the birth of her son and daughter, the moment of absolute helplessness she felt when she first laid eyes on her soon-to-be husband. All of those memories seemed marred now, tainted with the now constant reminder of her husband's infidelity. Even now, as she looked upon the sweet words Alexander had written her, it seemed near impossible to look upon them with any sense of fondness or love. All she felt was betrayal.

        She scanned the paragraphs vicariously, wanted to see if Alexander's words held any secret meaning to them, if the words that she thought detailed love instead detailed hate, for if the man harbored any love in his heart for her, he would not have made her feel so humiliated. She could only imagine how Phillip felt, and the thought of her first-born son surged an new wave of overwhelming hate and disgust. Her husband-  _Alexander_ invited this woman into their bed, marked their sheets with  _her_ , and didn't think of the pain it would cause his children.

He had ruined them, ruined their imagine of him. 

         And Eliza wanted to scream, wanted to throw china and overturn tables and rip the curtains and  _scream_ until her voice went hoarse, because she loved Alexander and trusted Alexander with everything she had, and he vowed to put her above everything else. She wanted to meet Maria Reynolds, wanted to ask her how she had gotten ever-so-careful Alexander in between her legs, and maybe she would reach some kind of closure with her words. Perhaps not.

It was late night, and Alexander still had not come home, not that she blamed him.  Maybe he did love her, did not want to see her red-rimmed eyes and listen to her strained voice. Maybe he didn't want to see the looks of confusion and devastation on Phillip and Angelica's faces, maybe he couldn't stomach it. Maybe he was with Maria, she thought irrationally and bitterly. 

The outdoor breeze helped calm her quickened breath, made her feel a moment of peace, and the beauty of her garden never failed to calm her. A box of Alexander letter's resided beside her, and it felt like Alexander himself was watching her, because the letters were  _him._ Everything he wrote was a part of him. The deception and lies he detailed in his letters to her were him, his wedding vows were him, the Reynolds Pamphlet was him. So she took the candle out of it's holder and lit the paper in her hand, and she wondered if he would burn and suffer just as the letter would.

And she didn't  _care_ about Alexander, because he had  _forfeited_ any right he previously had to her heart, and his place of rest would now be in his office, and her eyes burned from tears and the smoke the blazing letters had created.

It was in that moment of hysterics that Eliza decided that she would not be at the mercy of a man who could make her feel so helplessly distraught. 

 


End file.
